The Mark
by twitchy witch
Summary: Ash finally suckers Evie into wearing his mark, and...fun stuff happens.  Rated M for the fun stuff.
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction and summary**

This story is a sequel to "The Scar" and "Ashes to Ashes" so you should probably read those first before you dive into this one. But there's a summary below if you don't feel like bothering. The characters are mine, but the world is that of the Hollows. If you find OC's irritating, you can always skip to the last chapter, which is a good bit and has Rachel and Al in it.

OK, so here's the thing…I know I said I wasn't going to post any more Ash and Evie stories here, since I'm going to work the concept up as original fiction. But since I have started doing so, I've begun taking the new original fiction story in such an entirely different direction that I've decided there's no reason not to post this bit. And since those who generally have commented on my other stories seem to be into, shall we say, more adult interactions, I figured y'all might enjoy this. The story is rated M, even though nobody bothers to take any clothing off. ;)

First, here's a summary of the previous stories:

In "The Scar" we meet Evie, a grouchy college professor who is telling her story of how she got a scar on her face to a student. She and her friends summoned the demon Ash as teenagers, and he kidnapped all of them except for Evie, who escaped through a lucky break. It turns out that the student in question is the grandson of one of the victims.

In "Ashes to Ashes" that student decides to try a summoning of his own, and Evie decides it's time to face her past. But she has no summoning name for Ash, so she asks Rachel Morgan for help. Rachel does so, against her better judgment, and Al gets involved. Evie is betrayed by the family during the summoning, but escapes Al, who kills two more family members in his anger. Evie bids farewell to her lost friends, having realized that she may never know what became of them, and confronts Ash again. Ash had forgotten all about her, but is now reminded again, and gives her his summoning name.

Now we skip ahead through at least two full adventures that will be left unposted, because I am using many elements from them in my new story. After confronting Ash again, as well as Al, Evie decided to start sort of a demon-consulting business, where she would do the summoning and the holding, but let others do the bargaining. So she regularly works with five or six demons now. They tolerate it because it's a good deal (she makes the bargainers pay for their passage, and sets up appointments in advance), but they'd all be happy to grab her as she's getting so well known in the Ever After. Al still carries a grudge from when she humiliated him, and would be equally happy to just rip her head off. Needless to say, she also has made some pretty awful human/witch enemies as well, who sometimes send the demons to kill her/hurt her/silence her/whatever. This includes Ash, who (unbeknownst to her) let her catch him tonight to talk to her. She's just had a very close call the previous evening, but is in too deep to get out the business now, not without something drastic. So Ash proposes a modified demon mark to help him protect her (among other ulterior motives, of course). Why she trusts him over the others, after her experience as a kid, is a mystery to her. He's the one she summons most often, and the one she finds easiest to work with.

So! On with the good bit! This is my first attempt at writing any kind of erotica, so feedback is very welcome. If you like it, I'll post the fanfiction of my own fanfiction (yes, I know, I'm cracked in the head) where Ash and Evie get down to business for real.

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this and previous works, for all of your encouragement. And for coming up with the idea that all demons have a mean sweet tooth. *grin* I am so totally stealing that one.


	2. Chapter 2

**-A Decent Proposal. Somewhat, Anyway.**

I glared at Ash thoughtfully, considering the proposal. "And it comes off when I say?" I demanded.

"When you say," he agreed mildly, looking innocent as the devil through the thin haze of my circle.

There was a catch. There was always a catch. He knew there was a catch, I knew there was a catch.

At my brief silence, he added, "It doesn't hurt," as if that might be the reason for my hesitation. His eyes, alien as they were, still had an all-too-human twinkle of humor.

An involuntary snort of laughter burst from me. He knew perfectly well that wasn't why I wasn't in a hurry to remove the last barrier between us. All those nights we'd spent together, one of us held securely in my circle and he doing everything in his power to convince me to drop it- well, we both knew what he wanted. And it wasn't pretty, being a demon's familiar. I'd met a few. I'd die first.

He was such a patient devil, head tilted slightly and a pleasant smile gracing his lips. He looked so…normal…when he wanted to. Well, OK, currently he was looking like a fellow I'd had a crush on many years ago, a form carefully chosen to both embarrass me and because that fellow was _built_. And Ash was nothing if not vain. He stood in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, hands behind his back, black hair with juuust the right amount of muss to make a girl want to smooth it back just so. It was better than his usual choice, to appear as Greg, or Judy, or the other two he'd stolen that night, ages ago.

"And all you want is a blood sample? Why? Why's it so cheap?" What was the fucking _catch_?

He looked heavenward in playful exasperation. "I simply need a wee drop to test a theory, what's the harm? I give you my word that it'll be destroyed immediately. No keeping it, or selling it as a focal object, even though I could get a_ very_ pretty penny for it, you know." He grinned ferally at me. Oh, yeah, I knew. There were at least six others on the other side of the lines who'd be quite happy to track me down on their rare excursions to reality. I'd chosen a stupidly dangerous line of work.

"_You_ wouldn't need it to find me," I pointed out. "That's the point of this whole thing. OK." I drew a breath, trying to steady myself. I _was_ in a stupidly dangerous line of work. The incident earlier in the week had seriously shaken me. Ash's offer was a good one and it wasn't the usual mark- the one that meant you owed a favor, the one that meant if you died before you paid it back, you went straight to the Ever After, no passing go, no collecting $200, and definitely no Get Out Of Jail Free card. This one was simply a very small connection. Reversible. Ash's mark- his legal claim. On me. _Hands off, this is my territory_, it said. I already had one scar from Ash, but it was only cosmetic. This one would have a magic kick behind it that would let him know if any other demon was poaching. He was deadly serious about his claim. He'd been hunting me since I was sixteen. It might not save my ass from death, but at least his competitors would think twice about snatching me. And after the fiasco earlier this week, he was worried that I was getting sloppy.

Shit. So was I, to be honest. I was in way too deep to quit my business, and getting ensnared was always a too-real possibility. If I had to spend eternity as a demon's whore, well, better the devil you know…?

"OK," I repeated, feeling the adrenaline kick up several notches. "We're agreed, then. I drop this circle, you take your sample, you get your mark. No hurting me, killing me, or carting me off for the rest of the night. Or anyone else, for that matter. Truce. Yeah?"

He raised his eyebrows and fixed me with an intense gaze, all sleek predator. "Of course," he drawled, though I could sense his suppressed excitement. And triumph. After all this time, he was finally getting closer to his goal. Whatever it was. I mean, I was pretty sure I knew what it was- the usual, eternal soulless magical servitude and all- but you could never tell with demons. "No snatching, no killing. You drop the circle, I refrain from hurting you- beyond giving you a small wound for a sample, and I'll heal it right back up again. Then we have coffee and pie like the old friends we are," he purred.

"I don't have any pie, and if that's a euphemism-"

Ash snorted and held up his hands. "Perish the thought. Cupcakes, then," he said, eying my countertop. Great. He was going to make off with my cupcakes again. Curse demons and their sweet tooths. Teeth. Whatever. Well, better my cupcakes than my soul. It was a sacrifice I supposed I could live with.

"OK. OK." I stared at the shimmer of green-tinted energy before me. "OK, I can do this." My heart decided to kick up yet another notch, and I didn't bother to hitch up the bravado to cover it. No point trying to hide that I was scared shitless. I raised a hand- all it would take was a little touch, and I'd be alone with my good friend Ash, the demon who had elaborated all the wonderful methods he knew of torturing physically, emotionally, mentally, sexually, and all the other –allys one could think of, and a few –allys that didn't even have a name this side of the lines. Ash, who knew how to keep a witch from premature death while he was enjoying all those –allys, and who had often said he had a special room in his place all made up for me. Ash, who had scarred my face as a teenager after torturing my friend before my eyes, and whose red eyes still haunted my nightmares. Yeah. This was terrifying.


	3. Chapter 3

**- Next Time, Add the "Behave Yourself" Condition**

"Go ahead and take it slow, we have all night," he murmured in a voice that might have given a girl the good kind of shivers, if she weren't already shaking from the bad kind. Ash loved to make me squirm in any way he could. It was so like him to take Danny's form, the bastard. I supposed it could be worse, he could be looking like _me_. Or my _dad_. There were a lot of ways this could be worse.

"And look like yourself, Ash, or I'm going to call this off!" An empty threat at this point, we both knew it.

"As you wish, dove," he replied agreeably, his features melding into his usual appearance. Ash wasn't conventionally handsome, but he was charismatic, and I'd begun to appreciate the expressiveness and the sheer…personality… of his face. He looked human enough, tall and slender with a lean layer of muscle. Like all his kind, his irises were red, his pupils slitted like a goat's rather than round. His hair was wavy, amber, and somewhat longer than the current style in reality. Though demons were ageless and had seen every fashion fad since fur went out of style, and enjoyed combining them in unusual ways, he'd kept Danny's T-shirt and jeans. It would have been almost funny, if he didn't make them look so damned good.

Before I could change my mind, I slammed my hand into the barrier and the green haze vanished. I waited with heart pounding for him to leap at me, tell me where I'd gone wrong, but he was still, beyond a slow intake of breath. He was scenting me, I realized, tasting my fear. I suppressed the urge to wrinkle my nose at the stink of demon magic, a burnt, singed odor worse than burning hair. All demons carried it with them- the Ever After wasn't a pleasant place. After a moment it grew less noticeable.

He smiled widely and clapped appreciatively, as I stood there with what had to be a look of sheer disbelief at my own moxie. The world hadn't ended. Yet. I realized with a start as he held out a hand invitingly that he was going to make me walk over there, too. To him. Bastard.

"Well, come here, let's get on with this," he said, still wearing that shit-eating anticipatory grin and holding out the other hand as if inviting me to dance. Oh, yeah, he was going to be bragging to his buddies tonight, I could tell.

Steeling myself, I limped a few steps toward him, stopping just out of his reach. We'd touched before, but never willingly (on my part, at least). I lifted a hand and clasped his very lightly, trying not to be so damned intimidated by the gleam in his alien eyes. He looked positively delighted. "Where should we do it, dove?" he asked suggestively, and it occurred to me after I frowned in annoyance that he meant the mark, not…

Oh, right, the mark. "I thought…my arm…somewhere inconspic- HEY!" Ash had given me a tug and I'd stumbled right into him. His arm curved around my waist, capturing me. "What the hell, Ash?" I pushed at his chest but of course it was like pushing a boulder. "You promised you'd behave yourself! Knock it off!"

He gazed down and I fell still, my heart thumping like it was making a bid for escape right through my ribcage. "I promised not to _hurt_ you," he reminded me. "And I won't." He wound his other hand slowly, sinuously, up my neck, bent over, and breathed into my ear, "I'm not hurting you, am I…?"

Oh, _hell_. "Ash, stop it!" I insisted, leaning away from his face. "You've spent too many nights trying to fuck me over for me _ever_ to want to fuck you. Make your damned mark and let me go! _Before_ I die of a heart attack…?"

It was already two ways from messed up, this situation, and his hand suddenly deftly unbuttoning the top button of my shirt suddenly made it eight times worse. "That sounds like a challenge," he said, smirking.

I slapped him, kicked him, pushed ineffectively. "Ash, sexual assault counts as "hurt," you know! Quit it! Stick it on my arm, and keep your demon mitts off of me!"

"Relax," he said dismissively. He'd only undone the first button, and slid the open edge aside a bit to expose my collarbone. "Here," he said, lightly tracing a small circle right over my heart. I flinched, but his finger wasn't cutting me this time. "This will do very well. Inconspicuous, as you requested."

"Fine. Whatever! Just…get it over with and let me go. This is seriously weirding me out!" I didn't bother with trying to hide my discomfort- he'd only kick it up a few more notches if I did. If I wanted out of his grasp quickly, I'd just have to suck it up. And I could tell- my struggles were turning him on; it wasn't easy to mistake the hard bulge I was pressed tightly against. Better to just stop wiggling and let him get on with it.

He didn't hesitate further, but gripped me tighter, wound his fingers into my hair, bent me backward, and…_bit_ me.

It only hurt for an instant, but I shrieked in surprise as if he were cutting my heart out with a spoon anyway. "The fuck are y—" I stammered, realizing he hadn't said anything about what he was going to do with the sample, or how he'd conduct his test, what the test even _was_- and certainly hadn't hinted that teeth would be involved. Tricky bastard! Damn it! I drew a deep breath to curse him, when he made a deep, growling groan of delighted pleasure that went straight to my core, and-

Terrified to nearly orgasmic in less than a second, it felt _that_ good. Magic flooded me, racing through my synapses and finding my _chi_. I arched and gasped, my breath hard and harsh, as the sensation spread with white heat from my chest through my groin and right out my toes. He was forging a bond, as he'd said; he was also sending me to the brink of climax in the process. I felt him chuckle at my reaction. Oh, yes, he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He'd reduce me to a puddle and have a good laugh over it, and I'd never be able to look him in the eye again, damn him!

Everything he did was a game to him. He wasn't really interested in sex, at least not with _me_ in particular, it was just another tool in his "How to Dominate Mortals" demon toolkit. Just once, just _once_, I wanted to move him, to shake him up, hurt him, or piss him off again, anything to wipe that condescending unshakable smirk off his mug. Fuming, I touched his own _chi_, brimming with his power, and gave him a good hard _poke_. It was a stupid thing to do, I would have to admit later, but I was effectively immobilized physically and couldn't have formed words to save my life. And it was _right there._

It had the intended effect. He jerked a little in surprise and paused, unmoving. "None of that," he murmured against my chest, sounding amused, "or I'll see how much you can hold, little witch." He poked back, playfully, but it was hard enough to pass for a warning, as well. I felt him finish the spell. He wasn't even distracted.

_Oh yeah…?_ I was pissed, humiliated, and horny as hell, which didn't help my thinking any. _I'll show you how much I can hold, demon_.

I let him have it. I'd learned a lot about how to store ley line energy, and I had enough of it spindled in my head to blow up a bridge. I gathered it into a wudge and _pushed_.

Ash tensed, truly startled. His arms tightened involuntarily as he grunted and dealt with the sudden onslaught of energy. It might even have hurt him, a little, though I knew he could handle it. I knew how much power he was capable of holding- I'd been on the receiving end of it more than once. After a moment, he regrouped and assessed my sudden challenge. It could not go unmet. Slowly he raised his head and I braced defiantly for the world of hurt he was undoubtedly going to wallop me with. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He met my eyes, unsmiling, and I realized what a big, big mistake I'd made.

It had worked. Oh, I'd moved him, all right. Just….not quite in the way I'd intended.


	4. Chapter 4

**-Big Mistake. Big. Huge.**

Eyes slitted, Ash reached for my _chi_. Suddenly he was _pushing_, plunging his essence into my _chi_, testing my strength. But it wasn't the jagged, painful, punishing sensation he'd used before. I was braced for _that_. I could have handled _that_. This was...it was an endless, burning river, smooth and masculine and powerfully old. It was, crazily, unbelievably erotic. I shivered, indignation warring with something deeper, something instinctive. I was resisting the flow, but he was strong. His narrowed eyes held satisfaction, amusement, and a growing amount of desire as my body responded to him.

"Ash-" I gasped at the rush, shuddering, clawing at his shirt desperately as his hand tightened in my hair, a grip that was just on the verge of pain but not quite there, possessive and strong. My resistance gave way as I suddenly surrendered and _pulled _him in further, surrounding him, surrounded by him and his dark essence. I could taste his shocked surprise. His _chi_ held more energy than I could comprehend, and it began to spill over mine in tingles of white-hot waves cascading over my skin. It should have hurt, it should have burned like white fire, but it was incredible.

He groaned and shivered against me, his head flung back and his eyes fluttering closed. "_What_…are you _doing_, woman?" he rasped.

Fair question, I'd be asking myself that for years to come.

"_You_ started it," I panted. I twined my own fingers through his hair, reached around to grip his shoulders. I pushed back with my own magic. I flooded him with my power. He inhaled through his teeth and let me in, pulling, surrounding, yielding. His capacity was endless. I wasn't thinking, I wasn't afraid. It was exquisite, irresistibly exquisite. He took all I could give, and drained the last of me until I ached with the loss of it.

His own breathing was tortured now. "I beg to differ," he managed, and abruptly his lips had fastened on my skin, on the new magical mark on my chest. I realized in a haze of bliss that I'd succeeded- he wasn't completely in control and he certainly hadn't expected this reaction, from either of us. The thought should have frightened me, but it sent me spiraling further into the madness. My demon, raw with hunger, falling into his own trap. He licked the remaining trickle of blood from the wound he'd made, tasting it, breathing its scent. His eager mouth moved to my collarbone, then to the hollow of my throat, his hot breath harsh and uneven.

I was unabashedly moaning now, my fingers wound tightly in his curls, pressing him even harder to my skin, encouraging his advance, pulling his power back into me again, heavy with our mingled essences. He resisted this time, making me work for it, and I rose to his challenge, punching through his defenses with an instinctive, ferocious jab and taking what I wanted. His sharp, surprised intake of breath encouraged me, and I_ pulled_ harder to make him gasp and shudder against me again.

His teeth closed on my neck, not breaking the skin but still harsh with need and hunger, and it was as if a dam inside him had broken free. He jolted into motion, lifting me and backing me into the kitchen counter, pinning me there as he savaged my throat and drove his magic more forcefully into my body. I convulsed against him, lost in ecstasy, expressing my own hunger in gasping cries. He paused to tap a line, groaning at the delay and his need to refill his _chi._

"Ash, what are you- _aah_!" He took the energy and channeled it through me, erotically slow at first, then in waves. My thoughts lost themselves in a haze of pleasure as pure magic flowed from his lips on my neck to where our hips met. Tingles of power seeped all though me as he filtered the ley line energy through my willing body. His free hand explored the contours of my breasts, my butt, my thigh, and everywhere it moved, waves of sweet, white hot sensation tingled and spread. He stifled another groan that sounded like my name, and his ravenous lips finally found mine. His tongue darted past my lips, teasing, tasting, and I breathed my answering moan of pleasure against his mouth, melting so completely that my knees went watery.

Lost in desire, I pressed myself against him, so full of his power I felt heady, invincible. He was holding back, making us wait for it- his inevitable pull, his touch on my most sensitive spot. I kissed him hungrily, painfully, trying to hold off just forcing it back to him. He sensed my impatience, my readiness. His hand moved to cup my crotch. He sent his magic straight down from my lips to my clitoris. I nearly sobbed with the heat of it. I wasn't sure what he was doing, but I thought I might die if he stopped now.

Hungrily he pulled the magic back through me, now charged with my own sweet arousal. I cried out and writhed against him with ecstasy at its passage. "Ash_, please_," I pleaded as he drained me again. I wanted to taste him in the same way, to _know_ him. He continued to draw, taking his time now, savoring the sensation, the tastes, the scents, the emotions, the heady desire that flavored the energy now. It was so intimate, so incredible, so…right. "Please, let me—"

He cut me off with another kiss, growled against my lips, and braced for another thrust. He pulled away to meet my eyes. There was nothing alien or cruel there now, just a being smoldering with desire and intensity. He paused for an endless moment, then _pushed_, hard, filling me, overflowing me. We both came, hard and furious. At the height of my climax I instinctively tapped the line myself to dissipate what I couldn't hold, letting him flow around and through me, his burnt amber scent suddenly intoxicating, mingled with the scent of his body and his own deep arousal.

It was as if the line was reacting to our shared pleasure, rippling around us and through us, expanding my senses. I could see him before me, all of him, his deep scarlet ancient aura shot through with amber unsullied by millennia of demon magic dancing, entwining, merging with the green of my own. I saw him briefly vulnerable, soul unguarded and open to me. I reached for him with this strange new power, to try to do for him what he had done for me.

I had a single moment of the strangest, most incredible sensation yet, as if seeing myself from his perspective, seeing him from mine, like double vision but more akin to standing between two mirrors, an endless circuit stretching off to an incomprehensible eternity. But it wasn't just _sight_, it was all senses, emotions and sensations I had never experienced, had no name for. Everything. For an instant I was completely overwhelmed with the sudden influx of sensory overload, unable to parse it into anything I could comprehend.

He froze, suddenly apprehensive, and flung back his head with his eyes shut, gasping with the obvious effort. I felt the connection between us severed abruptly, and the tingle of our energies balancing once more. Both of us felt the sudden disconnect like a bucket of cold water dashed against us, both of us made a small pained noise of discomfort.

"Hell and damnation," he growled. "_No_." His voice was thick with anger and frustration. He and I stood motionless for a long moment, breathing heavily. I leaned my forehead against his heaving chest as we both tried to grasp what the hell was going on. In a moment one of us would break the spell and reality would come crashing down on us. Or one of us would break the momentary pause, and we'd resume devouring each other until one of us broke.


	5. Chapter 5

**-Where Demons **_**Would**_** Dare, if Witches Weren't So Damned Stubborn**

My mind, so vastly expanded and then crushed back into my own skull in rapid succession, was reeling from the experience. It took a minute or two before I even remembered how to speak in words. Before I even remembered which of us I was, or rather, that it was_ right_ that I was suddenly limited to only six senses, four dimensions, two legs, one perspective, and stood in a small body of flesh. Which was currently pressed to another body a rather painfully tight embrace. And that body was...

"A…Ash," I gasped finally, opening my eyes. "What…what was…how did you…?"

He made no move to release me, and a glance at his face revealed that he was fighting for control, eyes closed and lips pressed tight. He was trembling with the effort of holding still. I could feel the rapid thud of his own heart and had a brief amused thought that he even had one. I could smell his scent under the burnt amber, and wished I couldn't…it was wonderful, dark, primal. A moment later he seemed to agree about mine, for he buried his face in my hair and breathed its scent with a long, shuddering breath. "No. I _do_ want this," he rasped, having finally come to a decision. "Let us finish it. Give me leave." He moved his hips against mine, breathed my scent again. "I want you," he repeated more urgently. "_All_ of you. Damn the consequences. Give me leave."

I shook, as a modicum of sense seemed to return to my addled brain. Oh, hell, I wanted him, too, but this was just wrong on SO many levels. "Ash-" I managed, "I can't…I just…Oh, _God_," I gasped as he sent his hot breath against my ear, writhing as another erotic charge shot down to my groin. He wasn't even using magic now. "I can't, Ash, what are you…what are we…I just _can't."_

"Shall I plead?" he murmured against my neck, sending shivery tingles down my spine. "I haven't begged a woman in millennia. I can be gentle. Or cruel, if you wish. Give me leave," he insisted again, and nipped my neck in a way that made my knees watery again.

Now the sheer dangerousness of him was making itself known to my psyche, and it wasn't nearly the turn-off it should have been. I had never wanted anything more in my life. What in the hell was I thinking, playing power-pull with a demon? Was I suicidal? I was lucky I hadn't flared up and blown like a fuse. The only thing stopping him from simply taking what he wanted now was his promise, I was pretty certain of that. He'd stopped because he was a fucking _demon_, and would probably kill me in a moment of pure passion- which would violate his promise, of course.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. I tried to say something but it just came out a shivery stutter as Ash licked a slow, sensual line from my collarbone up my neck. I cleared my throat and tried again. "No. No, no, no, no. Bad. Bad idea. Bad!"

"Mmm. Yes," he agreed reluctantly, nuzzling my hair in a distracting fashion. "Bad. You have no idea." I realized with a start that he was trying to talk himself out of it, too. I had never thought of Ash as a man before tonight, but it was clear that, whatever demons were, they weren't immune to the same basic desires that plagued the rest of us mere mortals. Funny, that, I'd always assumed he was just playing with me, with all the teasing innuendos. I'd thought somehow he was above that sort of need, that it was just about intimidation and domination. "I find it difficult to give a damn about the risk at the moment."

"_I _don't," I breathed, and shook my head again. I felt muzzy and lightheaded, not to mention seriously aching with unfulfilled need. I'd done power pulls. They were fun. This was something beyond just a power pull. It was beyond sex. It was something deeper and more instinctive that I couldn't understand. It was something demonic, but it didn't feel evil or wrong, just...shockingly intimate. Dangerously, soul-alteringly intimate. And I wanted to continue, desperately, to see where it led. Even if it ultimately lead to the immolation of my soul.

Fuck, I needed a cold, cold shower.

"As you wish," he murmured into my hair, sounding disappointed, even wistful. He released his possessive grip a little, sliding fingernails across my back in a way that had exactly the opposite effect of a cold shower on me. "But one day, you will come to me. We will finish this dance."

"It's not going to happen, Ash. Not tonight, anyway," I amended, mentally adding_ Not ever if I can help it. Where the hell can I find a libido-dampening amulet at this time of night?_ With a supreme effort of will, I raised my eyes to meet his. Our gazes locked. His eyes practically blazed with raw hunger and desire. I doubted the look on my face was any less naked. Physically we were both still unfulfilled and it was nearly irresistible.

But it was Ash staring at me, Ash who held me, and a healthy dose of reality smacked me upside the head. What the hell was I thinking, making out with Ash, of all beings? _Demon, you idiot! Consequences! Bad! Death! Remember?__ Not worth dying over!_ "Not worth it," I managed.

It was as if I'd slapped him, and he blinked. My world moved again, less metaphorically and more painfully this time, as he released me and stepped back. I landed ungracefully on my ass. The new mark on my chest tingled slightly, and the air was suddenly a lot colder. Ash stared down at me emotionlessly. I stumbled back to my feet, wondering again what the hell just happened. It was as if everything had spun about ninety degrees in a dimension I couldn't even see. Everything was the same, but utterly unreal, utterly different.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Fury of a Demon Scorned**

He seemed to recall himself. "That was a _remarkably_ stupid thing to do, dove." He shifted, stood straighter, then a shimmer of Ever After passed over him. It left him unflushed, unmoved, unruffled, cool and fresh as a daisy. Even the wild, masculine scent of him vanished under a new reek of burnt amber. I felt a stab of envy- I'd actually have to _take_ the cold shower to get the effects of one. Demons had a curse for _everything_, didn't they?

I couldn't help the mad bark of laughter. "No kidding." My legs felt shaky. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. It was starting to sink in what an enormous thing had just happened. That we hadn't physically united didn't matter in the slightest, we had been just as intimate. Ash and I. Holy shit.

"You are one incredibly _lucky_ little witch…" At the last word he trailed off again, frowning at me thoughtfully.

"Yeah," I said. "'Lucky' isn't the word I would use. Ash, what the hell just happened here?"

"A mistake," he said darkly.

"Gee, thanks. Master of the Obvious Arts as well as the Subtle ones, I see," I snapped shakily, leaning back on the countertop. Later, I'd freak out. Later. Put it off for later. Besides, I didn't like the new mood that seemed to be coming over him now. He looked…angry. "Ash…?"

"You…_touched_ me," he growled, and I gasped as his hand shot out to grab my throat. He wasn't squeezing, but I knew how strong he was. I didn't dare struggle. "You _touched _me, woman! You _dared_!"

Oh shit. Yeah, I guess I had. "I…I'm sorry," I stammered.

"_Sorry_?" He gave me a little shake. I'd seen him vulnerable. He was looking furious enough to risk Newt's anger now. "You're _sorry_? Nobody has _ever_ touched me like that!"

"Look…" I couldn't think what to say. "It wasn't malicious. It seemed like…it was just…instinctive, Ash! I didn't know it would hurt you."

"_Hurt_ me?" he said bitterly. "_You_, a pathetic little witch, hurt _me_?"

"Hey!" Now that was just rude. "Who was just trying to talk me back into _finishing this dance,_ Ash? " I imitated his phrasing bitterly. "You didn't seem so pissy about it five minutes ago!"

I felt his hand tighten, ever so slightly, and wondered if I still had a death wish. "How fortunate for you that I'm still bound by my promise," he growled. "I will not be kind when I finally catch you, Yvette Therese Sinclaire. You think _my _soul is sullied? I shall defile yours beyond all hope of redemption or recognition. Not even the most depraved surface demon will want you once I have disposed of you. I will-"

"Now hold on a minute there! _You_ seduced _me_, you asshole!" I protested, but he wasn't listening. "You did the…bitey thing…" The impact of his words hit me. Ash was pissed, not because I'd touched him, but because I'd touched him and then…I'd rejected him.

Damn. He really_ was_ a man under all that…whatever.

I froze, speechless, and just gaped at him. Ash saw my realization and paused in his tirade. I had absolutely no idea what to say to him. "Your…your soul is beautiful," I managed finally.

Ash released me and stepped back so quickly, I nearly fell again.

I couldn't meet his eyes after that. How did you tell a demon that no, it wasn't him, it was you, that you did want him at the time but it's just that you weren't attracted to the whole going up in flaming death thing, and couldn't you just be friends?

The silence grew painful. "But not _worthy,_" he said, the deadly, cold fury in his voice terrifying. Oh, yeah, I'd really done it now.

"Not worth _dying over_. I didn't want you to kill me," I said finally. "I _am_ just a witch, after all."

"_Kill_ you?" he said tonelessly. "Kill _you_?"

"Yes! Kill me! Isn't that why you stopped us?" Surprised at his response, I looked up to see him looking nonplussed…but at least the murderous rage was gone. He was looking more than a little bewildered instead, so I elaborated, "You know, little witch versus ancient demon, tiny candle in a big volcano, right? It felt like…you were going to…engulf my soul. Devour it. And shit, Ash, I wouldn't have stopped it. _You_ stopped it." I felt the color draining from my face. "I would have_ let_ you!" I felt a familiar note of hysteria creeping in there, but Ash was holding up a hand.

"No," he said quietly. "You wouldn't have. Been devoured, I mean. I suppose it must seem that way to a mortal, but…" He ran a hand through his hair, in a gesture that said, _OK, this is fucking awkward._

"Yeah, it did! If that was the foreplay, Ash, how the hell would I have survived the rest?"

Ash hissed through his teeth, a sound that managed to convey understanding, frustration, and not a little humor as well. "Yvette Therese Sinclair, my every fucking encounter with you is the very definition of perverse irony."

I blinked. "Say what?"

"Let me put it this way," he said, turning away. My God, I think I had managed to embarrass the hell out of a demon. "That…_was_ 'the rest.'"


	7. Chapter 7

**In Which Evie Gets "The Talk" and Yet Another Scar is Acquired**

I had to sit down, then, to let that sink in for awhile. "But…" I couldn't get the words, "so what was with the raging hard-on then?" out of my mouth.

"When demons wish to mate, we do so with the spiritual as well as the physical. Even though the physical by itself is quite a lot of fun," he added with a leer. "You should try it sometime, since you're obviously capable of handling it."

"Oh." My mind was working furiously to avoid coming to the obvious conclusion of what the hell he was saying. _Oh please, d__on't say it. Please don't say this is where little demon babies come from... _"So what's the irony then?"

He met my gaze again, the smug Ash beginning to make a reappearance as he realized that there was the potential for really messing with my head and reestablishing the pecking order here. "The irony is that you were worried about surviving the equivalent of a fucking afterglow, when you shouldn't even have survived the coupling."

"Oh my God, you had to say that, didn't you?" I buried my head in my hands, certain every fucking cell in my body was blushing. I'm _not_ a blusher. "But what about your promise?" I recalled suddenly. "About not killing or hurting me?"

He shrugged again, grinning. "_You_ decided to play with fire. Nothing said I had to stop you from hurting or killing _yourself_."

I groaned, then glared at him suspiciously. "Then why_ did _you stop us, then?"

He lost the grin and looked away. He didn't answer, but he didn't have to. I knew. This wasn't something even an entity as old and experienced and jaded as Kaviaeshmedaeva did every day, with just anyone. And, I knew, he honestly had not expected me to _see _him. And not even an entity as ancient as Ash likes being seen, and judged, and rejected.

"I really ought to kill you anyway," he said, confirming my conclusion. "For your sheer gall in challenging me so."

Yadda, yadda, yadda," I said, rolling my eyes. "Add it to the list of my unforgivable offenses against you and demonkind. Having the temerity to survive, uh, whatever that was. Yes, I'm insufferable. You'll just have to wait for another night to do me in. You promised, remember?"

He unexpectedly stepped closer and reached out to me. I looked up in surprise, but he only slid fingers into my short-cropped hair, and slid his thumb down the scar he'd given me over thirty years ago. It wasn't the "I own you, mwu-ha-ha-ha" implication I'd have expected. Instead, it was an oddly affectionate gesture. "I did," he agreed.

I felt a sudden, weird lurch in my stomach. If you were a demon, who could be anything you wanted...and if you didn't have a real body in the true sense of the word...and someone marked you, and you kept it, displayed it, even if you could easily wipe it away... I felt my breath catch in sudden confusion as I remembered what I'd said to him, about why I kept the scar he'd given me. Sentimental reasons. It was a gift. I hadn't even really been lying, though I hadn't meant it like...oh, God.

And I had another realization on the heels of the first. I didn't think these little insights into Ash were entirely the result of my own intuition. I'd briefly seen him. My mind was beginning to make sense of that glimpse. Fucking Christ on a cracker, was there anything more dangerous I could have done? He couldn't possibly allow me to survive with this knowledge. And I couldn't afford it, either. I couldn't afford to be sympathetic to Ash. He was already dangerously familiar to me.

And only now did it hit me. Oh my fucking God, what had he seen in _me_? I'm sure every damned thought I had was written plain as day across my face as I stared at him, suddenly afraid to the very core of my battered soul. He saw it, and smiled dangerously. "Yvette Therese Sinclaire, your wish has been granted. I shall bear the mark of this encounter through eternity."

Somehow I was standing again, backing away, as he captured my hand and raised it to his lips. "Don't," I said faintly, but he had pressed my splayed fingers to his own chest. Again, I felt the thud of his heart under my fingertips. I knew exactly what he meant to do. "Ash, please don't." It was the first time I had ever pleaded with him, though I knew how effective _that _would be.

"Too late," he whispered. Scarlet blood blossomed on his white shirt, beneath my fingers, as I tried to pull my hand away. Five small circles, in an uneven, scattered crescent, now arced across his chest. "A gift, and a curse," he said, repeating my own words. "Kept for..." He tilted his head as if searching for the phrase, "sentimental reasons. Though you shall have to guess exactly what those sentiments are."

My hand was shaking. Hell, my entire being was fucking trembling from the sheer magnitude of what I'd managed to get myself into. Part of me wanted to run and hide from it, to deny it. But to do that would be the ultimate rejection, wouldn't it? I dealt in demons, and now I'd managed to capture a piece of one, one who had the guts- or at least the gall- to admit it to me. I didn't move when he released my hand, kept my fingers pressed to the wounds a moment longer. I knew if I fucked this up, I would never, ever be forgiven. Well, what had he done, way back when, when he'd marked me? Hard to forget. My eyes never wavering from his, I brought a finger to my lips and licked the blood from it, a gesture of acceptance. I was sort of shocked at how completely ordinary it tasted. Also, _ew_.

Ash's eyes glittered with surprise and appreciation. Apparently that had been the correct response. I sighed and turned away, suddenly exhausted. I couldn't even begin to imagine how this would come back to screw me over this time. Oh, wait, no...I certainly could. "Ash...? Will I...I'm not going to get...oh, hell."

He burst out laughing. "Of course not, you little idiot! Not without a physical union, and it would only produce another witch. Anyway, you're not ripe, I can tell."

_Ugh. Could he be any more crude?_ "I need a drink," I said. Now that the latest crisis seemed averted, I resisted the urge to climb into my safe little circle, but decided that would just be too embarrassing. Besides, he'd promised to be good, and he had no excuse to touch me again. I rubbed the new mark and it tingled again. I winced when I remembered I still had his blood all over my fingers, now all over my skin as well. Ew. So much for that shirt. "So…? Did you test your theory? Well…?"

He brightened, as if he'd forgotten what he'd come here for. "Oh, that! I was right."

"About what?"

"I'll tell you if you let me make that into a _real _mark," he offered, and I glared at him.

"NOT on your life," I retorted, feeling like things were settling back into a familiar pattern. I glanced down at my chest, and blanched. The mark was indeed inconspicuous. Possibly because it was hidden under one big, red, glaring hickey. I didn't have to look at my neck to know it would be in a similar state. "Ash!" I said accusingly.

He sat in a chair and leaned back, hands clasped behind his head as he surveyed his handiwork with amusement. "How about that coffee?" he said, grinning.


	8. Chapter 8

-**- Coffee, Cupcakes, and Cold Showers**

"Fiend," I muttered. "Can't I just banish you now?"

"So soon? But coffee and cupcakes were part of the deal," he wheedled. "And you haven't asked who summoned me this time."

"Because I know you won't tell me. I'd love to know what they got in return for sending you after me, though." Coffee. It was going to be a long night. I was trying to play it cool, but the banter was obviously forced on my part. Not only had we just done…whatever that was…but he was in my kitchen, outside of a circle. Ash. My nemesis. He wanted coffee.

I filled the coffee maker and then splashed my face with cold water.

Ash chuckled. "They gave me some seriously useful information on another project of mind, in exchange for…how'd they put it? Something about ice picks and eyes, and…well, it was messy and cruel, anyway. Slow and painful. The usual."

I stopped in my tracks. "They wanted you to lobotomize me? And you _agreed_? Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of…"

"It does," he agreed. "Chalk it up to my respect for your ability to catch me, or weasel your way into a circle a moment after I show up. I always get the best end of the deal whenever I'm sent after you. I get the rest of the night off."

It was sort of a backhanded compliment, and I turned away with a humph to put the bag of grounds back into the fridge. "I'm flattered. I think." I wondered who his project was. Ash was a professional familiar-hunter, after all. It didn't take much imagination to figure out who the summoner was this time, though. I'd pissed off so many people, but most of them wanted me dead, not neutralized.

I handed him a cupcake. Of course he had to lick the frosting like _that_. "And best of all," he added, and I could almost feel the trails his gaze left as it raked up and down my body, "I get to indulge my sweet tooth." It was clear that he was _not_ referring to the cupcake.

Exasperated, I went back to the sink. I splashed another dash of cold water on my face. Oh, God, he would never let me live this down.

"Get out some wine, while you're up," he said suddenly. "And a mirror, some salt, and your chalk. We're going to make you your calling mirror."

"Why?" I knew what it was. I didn't really want one.

"Perhaps you'll change your mind," he predicted darkly, his red-eyed piercing gaze capturing mine again, A slow, wicked, very satisfied smile curved his lips. "And perhaps I should have mentioned it earlier," he drawled, and my stomach lurched. Crap. What'd I miss? "I can nudge you now and then, you see, if I wish to speak to you. But you'll need the calling mirror to answer."

OK, that wasn't so bad, but still…. "This…nudging…thing," I stammered, "Does it feel…you know…"

"Do you want it to…?" he offered, leaning forward with interest. "I will very happily modify it to-"

"No!" I said quickly, perhaps a shade too loud. "No," I repeated after a good throat-clearing. "I was just curious."

He made a dramatic little snap. I suddenly sneezed, then sneezed again. "Excuse me," I said, then realized that tickle must be the signal. "Wait, seriously?" _Sneezing?_

"There you go, that's how you know," he said, leaning back and looking a little disappointed under all that smug. "Though I wish I'd thought of that modification before, it would have been great fun. No, I have to be physically present to do _this_."

I made a peep of protest as a sharp, intense shock of pleasure plunked itself right into my groin again, rather like a sudden rush of adrenaline. "Ash!" I scolded. "That is SO not fair."

He blinked innocently at me with a "What'd I do?" expression, and I stomped over to the coffeemaker and poured him a mug. Peevishly I thunked it down onto the table beside him, then went to fetch a cup for myself. I blanched at a sudden thought. "Ash, this mark thing…it's not one of those things that _anyone _can manipulate, right?" Just what I needed, a bright red "fuck with my head" target on my chest.

His eyes narrowed in pleasure as he replied quietly, "Only me, love. You're _mine_." His eyes narrowed further as he regarded me seriously. "And I hardly need to mention that if you try to make a similar arrangement with any of my colleagues, I'll know. And I will be _very_ displeased with you."

And of course he had to demonstrate, and the mark tingled ever so slightly, but painfully this time. The threat was obvious. I closed my eyes with a sudden pang of nausea. Yup. _There_ was the catch.

"But," he said lightly, leaning back again as if he owned the place, myself included, "I much prefer carrots to sticks." And the warning tingle turned back into a pleasant buzz, and faded away.

I resisted the urge to tell him where he could shove his carrots and his sticks, but he could read it in my face, and smirked. "Drink your damn coffee, Ash. Cream or sugar? How do you take it?" I turned to retrieve the creamer from the fridge.

I shouldn't have turned my back on him, not with a line like _that_ dangling out there. Stupid! He'd reached around me before I had even realized he'd moved, and brushed a finger against the mark. A moment later I was whimpering and arching against him, as his mark flared to life and sent me right back into that haze of sensual bliss all over again. "I take it hot and wet," he breathed into my ear, as I struggled both to escape and _not_ to escape at the same time. "Black as the devil, sweet as sin."

"All right, all right, you've had your fun, quit it." I gasped. I sagged against the fridge as he released me, smug as anything. With an air of exaggerated obedience, he sat back into his chair. He folded his hands and smiled politely. Demon on his best behavior.

"What are you, a damned vampire?" I stammered, rubbing the mark and resisting the urge to chuck the sugar bowl at him. He certainly had a lot in common with them, what with the teeth and the biting and the blood drinking and pheromones and the ecstasy ownership scars.

"Who do you think _made_ the vampires, little witch?" He stirred about five spoonfuls of sugar into the coffee and sipped it, looking pleased and ignoring my horrified look. "Mmm. Good coffee. It's almost worth the smut of traveling the lines just to get a good cup of joe."

I rebuttoned my shirt and tossed my hair, humiliated again- not to mention freshly hot and bothered. This had to stop, or I'd end up making an even bigger mistake than just making out- there was still the very real possibility of ending up his toy for eternity. "You've had your fucking coffee and cupcakes. We're done. We'll make the mirror later. I'm going to take a shower. A cold shower. A really, _really_ fucking cold shower."

Predictably, he opened his mouth to offer to help, and I commanded, "No. Stay here."

I knew he'd be following me, and he did, right over the circle permanently etched on the floor. I whirled, gave him a good hard bump with my hip to send him back a step, and promptly trapped his demon ass again. "_STAY!" _

He looked down and blinked in surprise, frowned, then smirked and gave me a "well played" nod. "I like the way you say that. I await the day when you command me to _come_."

One thing Ash is good at, I contemplated as I banished him back to the Ever After, is an evil laugh. He's really got that evil laugh to a T. Smug bastard.


	9. Chapter 9

-**Fifteen Minutes Earlier, in the Ever After**

Algaliarept bolted upright, eyes wide and startled. "The hell…?"

Rachel paused in her spelling to look up. "What was that?" She'd felt it too, sort of an odd…_whoosh_…in the line she was working with. It'd had a distinctly…naughty quality to it. She swallowed and tucked a curl behind her ears, trying not to squirm. Yeah. _Naughty_.

Algaliarept was staring thoughtfully around the room. "Huh," he said, blinking. "Haven't felt _that_ in a few thousand years." He glanced at Rachel, who was beginning to blush and trying to hide it, and grinned. "Nice, isn't it? _ Someone's_ having a good time…"

"Shut up, Al." Rachel tried to focus on her spellwork again, promptly adding the wrong ingredient and blowing up the crucible. "_Crap!_"

She started as Algaliarept leaned in and just barely grazed her vampire scar with a white-gloved finger. "I could show _you_ how to do it too, make the lines sing-"

She shivered, let herself enjoy the sensation for_ juuuuust _a moment, then slugged him. "I said shut _up_, Al." She resisted the urge to fan herself and started cleaning up her mess. This was going to be a really long night.

For her, anyway. Algaliarept just straightened smugly, and Rachel didn't see the wave of Ever After that shimmered over him, leaving him calm, unruffled, and cool and fresh as a daisy. He'd found himself using that one quite a lot lately.

Yes, demons really _do_ have a curse for everything.


End file.
